Rating: M. I'm paranoid. See warnings.

Warnings: Slight TF verse crossover, slash pairing, abuse, language (? Cybertronian curses are used in the cartoons, so does that even count?), mentioned character death, and implied interfacing.

Verse: AU-ish. TFP/G1. Same verse as We Shall Destroy Ourselves.

Pairing(s): Knock Out/Breakdown.

Summary: How Knock Out met the paranoid Stunticon and their "friendship".

Hope ya like. :)

Cherry Red and Navy Blue

Near the Beginning of the Great War

Kaon, Cybertron

Decepticon Base

If there was one thing in this universe truly worthy of Breakdown's despisement, it was his glitch. Unfortunately, no matter how much mental energy he diverted to abhorring the cause of his baseless paranoia or ignoring the concerns raised by it, he could not prevent himself from diving into irrational fear and mindless panic. Even something as insignificant as being watched, absentmindedly or not, by the organics or his fellow Cybertronians, caused his freezing up to the point where logical thought was laborious and movement inconceivable.

As one could imagine, his glitch made day-to-day life problematic and battle...Well, he was often punished afterwards, brutally so.

Motormaster abruptly forced his "brother's" return to reality with a vicious shove to the floor of the Stunticons' quarters. When the navy blue Lamborghini didn't jump to his own defense verbally or physically, the gray and purple semi snarled in disgust before slamming his pede down on the mech's undefended chassis, denting the metal considerably as he began to put more of his weight on it.

Eventually he tired of this and ceased, instead extending a servo to pull the uncooperative 'Con to his feet and then nailing him in the faceplates with the other. If not for his suffocating hold on the motionless mech's servo, Breakdown would have collapsed onto the unforgiving ground again.

Once more Breakdown's helm was bashed, and again for a third time. Next, the grip on his servo tightened further to the point where the metal was collapsing on itself. Then, he simply didn't have it anymore, according to an alert.

No matter. The Constructicons could easily replace such an easily lost limb. This way, his gestalt leader had one less body part to harm.

As little sense as it made, the only time Breakdown was calm and logical was when he was being punished by Motormaster. He barely even registered the agony he knew was there, choosing to retreat into his processor and turn off touch receptors. Perhaps it was because it was a routine thing he had endured since his creation and one that occurred with few differences each time. There were no paranoid delusions to be formed in these situations; there were no other conclusions, no other possibilites for what could or could not happen, what could go wrong and what damage he would suffer. The only change was a lowered severity once the war began, Motormaster acknowledging that even if he was useless, it was best for him to be an extra target or a distraction instead of a permanent resident of the medbay.

A burst of anxiousness in his spark made itself known when a hit shattered one of his bizarre golden optics, the other fracturing. He swiftly squashed the feeling.

An alert appeared in the forefront of his CPU, informing him that ones of his pedes had been flattened and was now not operational. He wondered how that had happened. Maybe Motormaster had stepped on it accidentally? Purposely?

Without his senses of touch and sight, he had no idea what position he had been placed in, or even if the beating was still ongoing.

Surely enough, more alerts rapidly appeared. Fortunately the only concerning news was that the dent in his chassis was deeper than he first assumed, coming close to compromising his spark chamber. All other damage was inconsequential, and the ruptured energon lines? He was already bleeding out. Now he just had to get to the medbay. Now.

Releasing a cycle of air, he attempted to online his mostly-whole optic, wholeheartedly relieved when it was successful. While his life was not exactly enjoyable, he did not want to be offlined, unlike Dead End, the morose fatalist.

Glancing around, he was happy to find himself alone and lying on the floor. Sitting up, he examined the damage to his pede. The leg was fine enough, but the foot had been almost entirely flattened. Grimacing in distaste, he located his lost servo and grabbed it.

Crawling backwards to the wall nearest the door, he used it as leverage to stand on his injured-but-functional pede and bent the other's knee slightly so the metal wouldn't scrape against the metal floor. Ex-ventilating, he left the quarters and began making his way down the abandoned corridors.

It was then that his glitch reappeared, weaving a plethora of nonsensical worries and ideas.

What if the Constructicons had gotten annoyed with repairing him nearly every orn and turned him away? What if his good leg gave out and he offlined in the hallway? What if Motormaster wasn't done with him yet and stomped after to continue his punishment? What if the other Stunticons seeked their own justice? What if the Constructicons weren't in the medbay?

That was the largest concern, and the only one he allowed himself to ponder: the absense of Hook and the others. It was late into the dark cycle after all, most mechs would be recharging, except for the ones working this shift, but they were holed up in the control room on the other side of the base from the living quarters.

Besides, there was but one Cybertronian outside the construction gestalt with the proper knowledge and experience to repair him, and that was the CMO, Knock Out. Breakdown had never met the cherry red racer, but he had heard that he was egotistic, impatient, greedy, and everything the Autobots believed the Decepticons to be.

Everything Breakdown wanted to avoid in his current state, or ever.

Surely he wouldn't be there? He hadn't any other time, and if he was as vain as they said, he would be in his quarters resting so he didn't appear anything but his best the next solar cycle. Maybe this would be an exception? Starscream may have been injured in the battle or by Megatron later, and it would be like him to demand he be tended to by the best and only the best. How long did his repairs usually take? What if there were other mechs in the medbay for overnight stay? Perhaps they were being tended to now?

Nevermind that. He needed medical help, or he would offline, and he would not be rejoining the world once he did. Once his plating turned gray and he was in the Pit, he would be done.

Finally. Not far ahead of him was the medbay, and not only were the lights on, but the double doors were wide open. Hook must be in. He wasn't going to the Pit yet.

Seeing his destination so close, he began hopping at a faster pace, bypassing a warning in his CPU about his heavy energon loss and the advisement to enter stasis lock. If he didn't get the major lines plugged shortly, he would be forced into it anyway.

When he was in the doorway, he froze. Instead of glimpsing Hook slumped over one of the desks near the entrance with a thoroughly disgruntled appearance, he saw directly in front of him the backside of a cherry red mech built for speed doing something at the worktable against the opposite wall. His every instinct screamed for him to flee, and he would have done so, if a smooth, self-assured voice hadn't spoken and caused him pause.

"A little late, isn't it? You should be recharging," the mech chastised, not even turnig to see who his visitor was.

Breakdown took this as affirmation of his thoughts and slowly began his retreat. Except he had momentarily forgotten about his flattened pede.

The energon-chilling screech issued by the sudden move caused Breakout's flinch and Knock Out's whirling around. Now the Stunticon couldn't move-damn his glitch to the Pit-as red-on-black optics widened to a comical size, taking in his excessive damages.

When the CMO nearly dashed towards him, Breakout's glitch gleefully informed him of his impending demise. He had distracted the racer from his work, ruined his dark cycle, and now he was going to be offlined. Just slagging great. He should have stayed where he was left.

However, instead of harming him, the other mech stopped at his side, wrapped a servo around his new patient's waist, wrapping the still-attached navy blue one around his own shoulders, and led him to the nearest medical table, carefully helping him onto it and laying him flat.

Dazed by the turn of events, Breakdown could only stare as his "helper" muttered numerous curses under his breath, grabbing multiple medical tools. What, was he going to use his knowledge of the Cybertronian frame to torture him the remainder of the dark cycle before offlining him?

When Knock Out returned to him, he attempted to inch himself off the table, minutely shaking his head as he did so. The CMO seemed confused by this, before forcing him to stay where he was.

"Stay where you are if you want to be repaired! Why did you wait so long before coming here? Are you glitched? The battle ended-"

"Not from battle," Breakdown interrupted brokenly, too startled to fear the backlash of being so impolite, so insubordinate. Once it registered, he flinched again.

"Then where in the slagging Pit did you get them?" Knock Out inquired absently while sealing the ruptured lines.

Breakdown didn't respond.

"Well? I should have guessed these injuries weren't from an Autobot, but Megatron would have made his beating you public and Starscream would have purged his tanks just seeing you, so who did this?"

"Motormaster," Breakdown answered.

"Motormaster? From what I heard, he only goes this far on his teammates...What did you say your designation was?"

"Breakdown."

"Ah, the one with the paranoia glitch. You're going to be fine, Breakdown."

The mech could not offer a reply. A little voice in his processor, one with much backing, asked him why he had not simply stayed on the floor, knowing this would repeat itself over and over until someone decided to put him out of his wretched misery.

"So what did you do to get this done to you? He must have slunked off to see Hook," Knock Out drawled, beginning to reattach his servo.

"What?" What was this mech talking about? He had screwed up, and had been punished. Why would Motormaster need to seek medical assistance?

"I promise I won't pass it onto anyone," Knock Out swore, winking wickedly.

"I don't know what you're..."

"What state is Motormaster in?"

"He wasn't damaged in the battle," Breakdown informed. "He's in his berth recharging."

Knock Out finished with his arm, but paused before attending to the next injury. "Then why did he do this?"

"Why do you care?"

"I don't, but you're a frontliner. The only excusable time to be seeing me is when you're hurt from battle."

Oh. Pity, he liked Knock Out's demeanor, it calmed him somewhat. As calm as he could be outside of beatings and occumpanied. "Sorry. I'll find Hook next time."

"Will there be a next time?"he prompted.

"Of course." What was he playing at? Breakdown was just an extra target, someone for the Autobots to aim at instead of the seemingly less threatening, useful Drag Strip, a wanted member of the gestalt despite his personality.

"How often does this happen?"

"Every orn, average."

Silence.

"What reason?" Knock Out inquired, turning his attention to the mangled leg, saving damaged optics and plating for last.

"I screw up. A lot."

"Your glitch?"

"Yeah."

"Who knows?"

"My brothers, Hook...I'm not sure who else."

"I see..." Knock Out trailed off, optics narrowing.

"What is it?"

"Why are you so calm? Hook mentioned that there were times when you had to be physically restrained for treatment. You don't seem so glitched right now."

"Your voice is calming," Breakdown replied honestly, not even sure what a probable lie would be to answer that inquiry.

"Is that so? Most claim the opposite," Knock Out responded, amused. "Say, have you ever received any type of therapy?"

"What?"

"For your glitch."

"No."

"Good. I'll speak to Megatron about having you transfered so we can work on that."

"What?"

"I suggest you try recharging. This may take awhile."

On command, his frame and processor began to feel fatigued, leading him into recharge.

xxxx

According to Breakdown's file, he was an exceptional fighter and as far as intelligence went, a superb student when anyone deigned teach him; the only issue was his glitch, something he may one day be able to move passed if given the proper environment, assistance, and, of course, time. Those would be Hook's observations, and even though it would have been entirely out of character, there was a chance he had lied in these reports in order to protect Breakdown, claiming he would be highly useful if allowed rid himself of a temporary hindrance. From Knock Out's personal experience, he surmised that the Stunticon would never be free of his glitch, but it was possible to subdue the pesky imperfection to the point where it was a passing uneasiness every once in a while.

So, either Knock Out went with what his somewhat-reliable instincts were screaming for him to do and possibly gain a worthy asset, or he would return the other grounder to his "brothers", one of whose hands he would undoubtedly offline by. "Possibly" was not a word he favoured, but if this mech did offline and the reports were not false, it would indeed be such a pity.

Staring down at the repaired mech, optics analyzing the frame built to deliver and take powerful hits and then focusing on the out of place serene smile, Knock Out came to a decision.

xxxx

Several Vorns Later

Kaon, Cybertron

Decepticon Base

The war had progressed steadily over the past vorns, the Autobots finally accepting that deplomacy would never succeed. Following this admittance, the battles became longer, the death toll higher, and the overall destruction multiple times that of the previous.

Knock Out was not the only one annoyed with this. While the losses were equal for either side, he had not expected for this war to reach such an extreme level. Honestly, he had believed that the Autobots would have had an epiphany of sorts when the Decepticons refused to stand down; maybe they would realize that "losing" a few cities was not such a horrendous thing. It was not like Iacon was among them. Simply Kaon, which had become their capital city, and the surrounding civilizations.

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, really. This situation was not so horrific for him. Repair a few mechs, listen to Starscream's whining, read reports, go on a mission every once in a while, and race or train with Breakdown.

The navy mech had become a "friend" to Knock Out, well, as close to one as a Decepticon could have, especially in times of war.

After Megatron had heard Knock Out's proposal, he approved it with shocking ease. It had seemed suspicious to the CMO, knowing that the Slag Maker treasured his gestalts dearly. Amused with the racer's facial expression, Megatron continued: "I have heard from Hook both the severity and the regularity of Motormaster's "punishments". Unfortunately, the former is unexcusable with a team of frontliners who, while glitched, are useful to the Decepticon cause. Wildrider and Drag Strip will be transfered immediately to Barricade's team. Breakdown will be placed directly under your care and command as you wished; I do hope you can help him. Dead End will go to the Constructicons; his obsession with the afterlife and readiness to join it are concerning."

An Autobot may have called Megatron's orders "kind and just". Knock Out would call them "cold, logical, and threatening". Any Decepticon would be able to see this in what was said and what wasn't: Motormaster would be offlined and the medical teams as well as the CMO would be punished themselves if Dead End and Breakdown were not made useful.

Fortunately, Breakdown had improved exceptionally since their first meeting. He could now have friendly conversations and make optic contact with Knock Out, the Constructicons, and Dead End. As for Autobots, he simply avoided meeting optics with them while beating them to the ground.

Breakdown's files were not fabricated, and he did become that valuable asset. He was Knock Out's personal assistant now, and expressed no interest in rising above that status in the ranks, which was just as well seeing as he was a good conservationalist and eagerly helped buff his superior's frame.

xxxx

8:51 P.M. August 19, 2010

Denver, Colorado, United States

Nemesis Medbay A

Yes, Breakdown had come a long way, as had Knock Out, though he would not realize that until much later.

Currently, the duo were on an airship with the Constructicons, the top three, Barricade's team, and the vehicons; a full house, one that made everything from having a private conversation to recharging to interfacing difficult. Mainly because Wildrider had apparently missed Breakdown and was constantly popping in to say "hi" or to ask a number of outrageous questions. Knock Out personally did not want to know what the inside of that mech's processor was like.

:You're thinking too loud. Soundwave can probably hear you: Breakdown commented over their bond, bringing the cherry red mech back to the present.

Two navy blue sevos wrapped around his waist, pulling him back to rest against a chassis of the same color. :Sorry to have disturbed you. Where's your brother?:

:I left him with Dead End. He'll be preoccupied for a while:

:Thank Primus:

Breakdown snorted, amused by this. :He's not so bad:

:He is when he interrupts us: Knock Out snarled out.

This seemed to only amuse Breakdown more.

The larger mech then flipped his bondmate in his servos and sat him on the worktable.

:I don't see him anywhere: he rumbled over the bond, maintaining optic contact.

:The doors?:

:Locked:

:Frag me already, then:

Okay, done. Was Knock Out OOC? I'm not too sure myself.

Any constructive criticism? No? Anyway, please review, if only to say "hi!"